First being, Blogger seems to have erased the last set of comments I made on here. If you've read for more than a week you know I'm a big comment maker. I like to set up at least a short interaction with the folks who are willing to comment, but Blogger had something else in mind. So, I've re-commented on the past few posts, back to the last Poetry Friday Challenge. Grrrr. Dang ole Google.
Remember in grade school when you were learning all those strange tricks of carrying decimal places and multiplying quarts to yards and trying to figure out how soon that train would arrive in Chicago after leaving New York? Remember how our teachers drilled in our heads that we'd better learn this toot-sweet because we'd for certain be using it in our adult lives?
Remember getting out of high school or college or Vo-Tech and suddenly realising... sweet gold plated Jeebux, they lied! I'll never need to factor a series of unrelated fractions down, never need to remember how to calculate the area of an isoceles triangle and I'd certainly never care to plot points on a giraffe* ever again.
Well, we were all wrong.
You see, I had my by-gum last ass-chewing today. The last. I complain to the chain of command about the marked double and triple standard and I get my ass chewed for not being a team player. Fuck that. I'm not going to sit in my semi-comfortable Hon office chair and keep my mouth shut while the boss's golden child talks for an hour on her cellular about her child who has MRSA to everyone within earshot of her over-loud voice. I'm not going to bust my ass 8 or more hours a day all week only to keep falling behind because the golden child doesn't do anything but the schedule and has ample time to drive around on the clock doing errands for everyone and then waltz out early to go and have her 300+ pound frame greased up and shoved into a tanning booth because HER JOB IS DONE. I know full well that nothing, NOTHING I say or do will change matters in that office, so I'm doing the only thing left to me.
I skipped out early today on a flimsy excuse to go to the local Job Placement Service with a Goal In Mind. The local power generating station is building a new plant beside the old one, a plant that is going to burn for fuel the waste material of coal-fired plants. They've built this massive fortress of a plant and now they're starting to staff it, and I am going to be one of those staff members. They're paying new-hire Utility Workers (read: janitors) what I'm being paid right now after three years of toil, and I promise you that with two college degrees and my motivation (equivalent to the output of an Amish man building his marriage bed) I won't stay a lowly Technician Class 1 for long.
No, kids, it's time for Irrelephant to get the flock outta Dodge and go elsewhere.
The thing being, I have to take a math aptitude test at the Job Service place Friday morning before they'll even begin to suggest me to the power plant folks, even though the counselor said it'd be no problem to get me hired. Basic stuff--addition, subtraction, fractions, percentages, angles, multiplying and dividing fractional integers, algebra, calculus, stellar cartography, a dash of particle physics, a smattering of gravitational mechanics and figuring transit timetables for AmTrak. In Esperanto.
Holy shite! I don't remember all that! I scoffed when I was told I'd need it later! I swore I'd never go anywhere without a calculator! Why does anyone in their right mind need to know the degree of a vector? Why would I want to factor complex equations, all I want to do is watch some dials, perhaps do a little sweeping up!
Ye gods, I'VE FORGOTTEN ALL THAT GUFF!
* Plotting positive coordinates on the y axis of a giraffe was always the tricky bit for me.